Midsummer Night Fear
by Ebenbild
Summary: In 7th year, instead of returning, Harry choses a different path. Now, he's praying that when he comes home, he won't have lost his friends. Yet, for all his praying, there's still a life he's bound to lose if he returns to where he came from - but then, fear for loved ones is a motivating factor to try and return... AU; Time Travel! Possible to read as platonic or SLASH!


_Author's Note: Written for Pride of Portree Bonus-rounds._

_Bonus-round 1: A Year is a Wheel_

_Team: Pride of Portree_

_Position: Chaser 2_

_Prompt: Litha_

_Additional Prompts:_

10\. (song) "Minor Cause," by Emancipator

_12\. (quote) "Don't be afraid of your fears. They're not there to scare you. They're there to let you know that something is worth it." -C. JoyBell C._

_21\. _(creature) thestral

_Word Count: 4,100_

_Betas: _Story Please, crochetaway

_**Disclaimer**__: I'm too young to be Rowling so there is sadly no way Harry Potter is mine…_

xXxXxXxXxXxHarryxXxXxXxSalazarxXxXxXxXxSalazarxXxXxXxXxHarryxXxXxXxXxXxXx

sSsSsSsSs

_**MIDSUMMER NIGHT FEARS**_

sSs

"Don't be afraid of your fears. They're not there to scare you. They're there to let you know that something is worth it." -C. JoyBell C.

sSs

_xXxXx__xXxXx_

The spinning sun wheel sped up.

Rotary torches illuminated the midsummer night.

His hands clutched the handwritten note harder for a moment, then he loosened his grip, took a deep breath and threw it into the flames of the big bonfire in front of him.

Seven times seven.

The wheel kept spinning.

"Bring me home, keep them safe."

Don't die.

Don't die!

_Don't_ die!

The note caught fire.

xXx

The first time he doubted he would survive until adulthood had been when he had only been eleven for three months.

As the years passed, his belief only solidified more.

In the end, he was proven right when he died three months before his eighteenth birthday.

"At least you survived until adulthood," he told himself when he woke up in the whiteness of a clean King's Cross. "In the magical world you're of age when you reach seventeen."

But he was muggle-raised, and for him it was hard to remember that he wasn't a muggle anymore but a wizard— even if he had been one for years already. So for him, it felt as if he hadn't met his goal, as if he had died as a minor, still.

_Dead._

He was dead now.

And he died before his eighteenth birthday.

He had died in defence of others, older and wiser than him.

He had been sacrificed for a cause he wasn't even sure he believed in.

He was dead— and his only company was a man he had grieved for and learned to mistrust over time and an ugly baby he wasn't allowed to touch or to soothe.

He should be happy that he could clear up some things with the man who had taken an interest in him for his whole life, who had looked after him and given him riddles and clues and a path to destruction.

But when he looked up into the brilliant blue eyes of his former Headmaster, the only thing he could see was his ultimate end.

He had died once already now.

Sacrificed himself for all of them without even knowing that they were still alive.

Ron.

Hermione.

_Ginny._

"You can return," the Headmaster assured him. "You're not dead yet."

_Not dead yet._

_**Yet.**_

He might still end up dead in the end.

_**Return.**_

_Don't give up, don't give in, don't -_

Ron.

Hermione.

_Ginny._

He turned around to go where he came from, to follow the wishes of his former Headmaster and return to disaster, destruction, and death.

He was about to walk away, back to where he came from, when he was suddenly nudged by the soft muzzle of a thestral.

The animal nudged him again, its eyes soft and silver and caring. It's emaciated body covered with black fur and its wings spread as if to shield him from the whiteness surrounding him.

"_Follow me_," it seemed to say, "_follow me, I will guide you home_."

And Harry, for all that he knew to be wary of strange magical beings, believed the expression in the silver eyes so full of a warmth he couldn't place or understand.

Of course, that was when the Headmaster saw the thestral as well...

"Don't, Harry," the Headmaster said. "It's a thestral. It embodies death like nearly no other creature in the world."

_Don't, Harry._

But the silver eyes of the thestral were warm and caring, not interested in only its own interests.

_Don't, Harry._

_**Don't!**_

His heart started to beat faster, half in fear for the unknown - a fear that felt so right, so clean and true like no other fear ever before - and half in anticipation.

"It's my life, Headmaster," he countered. "I'm sorry."

He stood tall, forcing himself not to show the fear of the unknown, the fear of fear itself.

And his hands touched the soft, dark mane of the thestral next to him.

"Bring me home," he said. "Please, bring me home."

Home to those he cared for.

Home to his best friends.

Home to the love of his life.

"_Ginny…"_

And maybe, just maybe he would have listened to the Headmaster if he had known what awaited him...

_xXxXx__xXxXx_

The sun wheel was spinning.

His gaze was drawn to the light of the bonfire.

He was surrounded by dancing and laughing people.

In his hands was a note.

He clutched it, he held it tight.

Seven times seven.

Seven notes spread over seven times seven years.

"Don't die… _don't_ die… _**don't**_ die!"

The note caught fire.

"Let me come home, keep them safe!"

_Keep them safe!_

And from afar, silver eyes were watching him plead, filled with inscrutable emotions.

xXx

He opened his eyes in the middle of a town he had never seen before.

For a moment, he looked around confused, then he decided to walk in further.

It didn't take long for him to reach the middle of the town - and with it what seemed like all the people in town as well.

They were all standing around a pedestal.

A woman with black, long hair in a ripped white garment which looked more like a shift than a dress was standing on top of it, her hands bound to her back and held by two men left and right.

"Today we gathered to render judgement on this wanton woman," a man standing next to the woman said. He was clothed like someone Harry would have called a rich man - if said man was part of a Middle Age play. "Landlord Timothy Burly and his servant John have both been approached by this woman with dishonourable intent. Now she will be judged for the deeds of her past."

The woman grimaced, her face showing her protest, but when the right man who held her shook her roughly, she turned her gaze to the floor and said nothing.

"After we thoroughly gathered every evidence we could find about her deeds, she was found guilty of being a harlot," the man said. "We, in this town, are good, God-fearing people, as such, we have an obligation before God to help this poor woman back to a God-fearing and honest life."

Harry could see two of the men at the back of the crowd exchanging a meaningful glace.

Something was wrong with them - and half a minute later, Harry knew what it was.

"So, to ensure that this woman will find her place in our respectable community, she will need a man to guide her."

And while most men looked away, clearly unwilling, the two Harry had watched before exchanged another, meaningful glance full of evil intent.

Harry had always been a saviour.

There was no way he would let someone else suffer at the hand of others if he could stop it with simple words.

"I will take her on and guide her," he spoke up, ignoring the fact that the people and the town looked like a Middle Age replica.

The woman's silver eyes locked with his own.

Maybe, if he had known that 'guide her' meant 'marry her', he would have thought twice about his offer...

_xXxXx__xXxXx_

The sun wheel was spinning.

Seven times seven.

A plea every seven years to the burning flames.

Seven pleas for a chance.

"Take me home, keep them safe."

Don't die, _don't_ die, _**don't**_ die!

"Is this what you truly wish for, still?"

"It's not that I still wish for it with the same desperation - but that doesn't mean that I don't wish for it anymore. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're afraid for them, for years you have been afraid for them - if nothing else, that shows me they're worth it."

And another note was taken by the flames of Litha…

xXx

"Do you know what you did, you fool?!"

"I saved you!"

"You bound us!"

Harry returned the angry gaze of the tiny woman in front of him with stoic eyes.

"I _saved_ you," he repeated, sure of himself.

"By binding our souls and magic for eternity!" the witch countered, furious. "If you had been mundane - if you had been anybody else- this wouldn't have happened! I could have walked away!"

"Yes, after being raped or worse!" Harry objected, slowly getting furious as well. "I saw these two men! I don't know exactly what they planned - but I know they would have hurt you! I couldn't let them!"

"So what? You just thought 'I'll marry her instead myself'?" the woman asked with clenched fists. "I'm not helpless!"

"I didn't expect you to be," Harry countered. "You're a witch - and I know how powerful witches are!"

At that, the woman looked at him strangely.

"You consider me powerful just because you know I'm a witch?"

Harry shrugged.

"I might not truly know you, but I can tell already that you're scarily intelligent - and if you're anything like my best friend you will be able to back that up with a lot of spells and power. She's dangerous like that, and I guess you're as well."

At that, the witch's lips twitched.

"You're not entirely wrong with that," she agreed. "But I'm also not a witch."

Harry frowned, but before he could asked, the woman continued.

"I'm a wizard," she said, her silver eyes on him and watching him for a reaction.

It took a moment to understand what she meant.

"You're male?!"

"Yes - and you just bound us in marriage for the rest of our lives."

Maybe Harry would have walked out on his husband if he had known who the man would be one time in the future. But they were young, just two seventeen-year-olds, and the future was far away...

_xXxXx__xXxXx_

The light of the fire burned in his eyes, in his hands the note he had written.

Seven times seven.

A plea for years to come.

"Bring me back… bring me home, keep them safe."

_Please_, don't die, _don't _die - just _**don't**_ die!

And the pinwheel kept spinning, taking his plea with him.

"I'm afraid," he confessed. "What if I lose them?"

A warm hand touched his shoulder.

"Don't be afraid of your fears," his husband told him, a warm and steady present at his back. "They're not there to scare you. They're there to let you know that something is worth it."

"You're right," Harry agreed. "Ron, Hermione… _Ginny_… they're worth it."

"Then don't falter. I'll be with you until the last step of your way."

xXx

It took three years for Harry to confess everything, to tell the man he was forced to call husband everything.

And it took even longer for Harry to understand who the man at his side actually was.

"Salazar! Oh, c'mon Salazar! You can't mean it! We built this school together we should go to the courts together and-"

"No, Godric! I'll stay because I sure as hell won't wear a damn dress and play a lady for any court!"

"You know," Harry said amused. "I could stay here. Like that, you could go as a man. It's not that anybody needs to know we're married."

"And it's not as if you actually lie with your husband," Godric added.

"My husband had an intended," Salazar reminded Godric coolly. "It's bad enough that he was forced to marry me and is now bound to me thanks to the accidental entwining of our magic and souls, I'm not about to add another strain to our marriage by even just sharing a bed to sleep."

Those words actually were like a punch to Harry's gut.

Part of his first longer conversation with Salazar had been Ginny and what they had had until he had to break it up because of war and danger.

Salazar had never forgotten Harry's pain at losing the girl he had more than once dreamed of marrying. Even now, years and years later, Harry sometimes woke up after dreaming of Ginny and those three imaginary children they would never have.

He had dreamed about them so often that he could see their faces clearly when he just closed his eyes.

He could see them, together, at King's Cross, waiting for the train to take first his first born, then his second born and in the end his little girl as well to Hogwarts.

He could hear their names in his ears.

_James._

_Albus._

_Lily._

_**His**_ \- not only because he watched over them like he did with the children he shared with his husband but because they were his by flesh and blood, not just by magic and intend…

And maybe, Harry would have kept on dreaming, would have kept on remembering a future that never happened...

But then, Harry opened his eyes again and met the silver ones of his husband with hidden pain in their depth and for the first time since Harry had heard about Litha and the ritual, Harry started to wonder if it was worth it.

_Was it worth to destroy another man's life just for his dreams?_

_Was it worth to hurt somebody else just for a possible future?_

_Was it worth to dream of the impossible when he had someone at his back who would do anything for him?_

_When he had someone at his back who was nearly as good of a friend as Ron and Hermione had ever been?_

Maybe, this was the day Harry actually started to look past his grief and loss and in the eyes of the one person who was sworn to stand by him in good times and the bad...

_xXxXx__xXxXx_

The note in his hands already felt as if it was burning, yet, it had not been touched by the flames.

"I need to go back, I need them to be safe."

Seven times seven.

The wheel was spinning, considering his plea.

"Harry, tell me, do you really want to go back there? You're here now, you've lived here now for decades. Do you truly want to leave?"

_Do you want to leave me?_

"Ron, Hermione, Ginny… I just… I need to know. I'm so afraid for them, I _need-_"

"You need them to be safe. You need to know they survive. You fear their deaths more than leaving your home and everything else, more than your own death."

"I do," Harry looked up and into silver eyes. "But if you truly wish me to, I will not ask for my return anymore."

"And instead you will suffer in silence for the rest of your life, eaten by your fear, eaten by what-ifs," his husband looked away. "As much as I wished for you to stay, I can't ask you to - not if that means to lose you to your fears."

Harry smiled and the note hit the flames.

The sun wheel kept spinning.

xXx

"What are you doing, Harry?"

Harry looked up from the hole he had been digging into the grounds next to the Black Lake.

For a moment, his eyes met the silver ones of the man who had stood by him in the decades past and Harry couldn't help but think that for all he knew about the man - history and legend as well as reality - there were still things he'd most likely never know.

Harry hesitated just a moment, then he opened his hand and showed Salazar the pendant he had in his hand.

Ever since Harry had found himself in the past, he had kept a jealous watch over the pendant - the only thing left of Ginny and his life in freedom.

_Freedom._

What a wrong word to use, considering that it implied Harry was imprisoned by being married to Salazar.

And yet, it had been the word Harry had used for decades now.

Ginny was freedom.

Ginny was his choice.

Salazar on the other hand was nothing but an accident, unwanted, unloved…

_No_, not unwanted any longer, because Harry couldn't imaging his life without the other.

_No_, not unloved any longer, because what else could Salazar be but his best friend, the one he trusted even more than he ever did with Ron and Hermione.

What else could a man be who was more important to Harry than Ron and Hermione had ever had the chance to be?

What else could a man be who was everything but one thing that Harry had always wished Ginny to be and that he had never had the chance to find out if she was?

His bond with Salazar might have started out as an accident, unwanted, unloved, but he was neither unwanted nor unloved anymore.

He was Harry's.

He was Harry's alone.

And he had been so for years.

_Decades._

They had known each other for decades.

_And Harry?_

Harry was finally done running.

"I'm burying Ginny," he said. "I've loved her and part of me will always love her - but you are my husband. I absolutely don't want to live without you."

Harry smiled a bit sadly.

"Even if I'd be able to return to Ginny right in this moment, I doubt I'd go and leave you behind if it were only for her, if there was no war, no fear of her death plaguing me."

_Because you need me - and she doesn't._

But that would be a confession too much for Salazar to accept.

It was the first time ever he saw Salazar truly smile - and maybe, just maybe, it was the first step to more than just sharing quarters with the Slytherin...

_xXxXx__xXxXx_

The sun wheel was spinning, faster and faster.

The flames were burning higher than ever.

"Are you still praying?"

"And if I am, will you forgive me?"

The other reached out to him, touched his fingers for just a moment.

"There's nothing to forgive. No matter what, I love you still the same."

He looked up and into the silver eyes of the other.

His smile was warm and his hand reached out to take the other one's.

Only after their hands entwined, he used his other hand to deliver his note to the flames.

Seven times seven.

The wheel was turning.

"I have to go back, I have to know they're safe."

His hand clutched the other one's tighter.

Don't die, _don't _die, _**don't**_ die!

_But __**please,**_ _don't force me to go back alone…_

xXx

"Rowena?"

"Do you need anything, Henry?"

Harry hesitated just for a moment.

"Litha's ritual," he finally said. "Is it for one person only?"

Rowena looked up from her books interestedly.

"Which ritual are you talking about?"

"The wish one," Harry replied, not looking at the woman. "Seven times seven."

"It's a very complicated ritual - are you sure you want to do something like that? You're playing with Death there."

"I know," Harry said. "Just tell me - is it for one person only?"

Rowena sighed.

"There aren't many things that can stop true love," she said. "But you have to be sure - absolutely sure that the thing you wish for is the most important thing for you, so taking someone with you must mean that this person would be even more important to you than the thing you wish for. You could endanger your ritual if you add them. To do that means they're more important than the most important thing you beg for… can you guarantee that?"

Harry turned away and looked out of the window, watching Salazar tend to their garden.

"I… don't know," he finally said haltingly.

_I don't want him to live without me…_

"As long as you can't answer that question, they aren't," Rowena replied.

_I don't… absolutely __**don't **__want to be alone…_

"Oh."

_But I must! I __**must**__!_

_Please, please, __**please,**_ _don't make me live without him!_

Harry knew from bitter experience that he could live without Ron, without Hermione… even without Ginny… he wasn't so sure anymore he could say the same about Salazar.

"You still have him around for another six years," he assured himself, but when he looked into Salazar's eyes later that night, he knew that it wasn't enough, that it would never be enough.

His hands ghosted over his husband's face and tunic, his fingers found the strands of his husband's long black locks and he finally buried his head in his husband's neck, grounding himself in his husband's body and smell.

He couldn't imagine to not have this nearness anymore.

He couldn't imagine Salazar dead, half of Harry's soul gone and the only thing left of Salazar his own half a soul and magic buried deeply in Harry's body.

He couldn't imagine being alone again.

Not after so long, not after decades of having someone who looked after him, who let him look after them…

"I love you," Harry said. "I love you, Salazar Slytherin."

_Surprisingly, saying those words didn't feel like lying._

"What brought that on?" his husband asked but didn't move when Harry wrapped himself even tighter around him, hugged him closer until there was only clothes but no space in between them anymore.

"I can't imagine living without you," Harry confessed and Salazar reached out and brushed his hand against Harry's cheek.

"Then don't," Salazar said. _You will experience it soon enough._

_Oh, please - if there is a God - please, please, __**please**__, don't make me live alone again!_

_Because I can't, absolutely_ _**can't **__live without him and if I have a choice, I'm not sure if I can go back if that means to never see him again..._

_xXxXx__xXxXx_

He stood there, in his hands his note.

"Are you ready?"

"Not really," Harry replied, his eyes on the flames. "But I have to do this. I can't live with this fear for another five decades or more."

"It's been forty-nine and three years," the other man told him. "You're different now. I'm not surprised you're afraid."

"Neither am I," Harry replied, his eyes on the flames. "But, like you said: Fears are there to let you know that something is worth it - and I've been afraid for them for forty-nine and three years."

The answering smile he got at that, was half-bitterness and half-blessing.

Then the other man reached out, took his hands in his own, spread them over the flames and made Harry let go of his note.

For a moment, the note sailed through the air, then the flames caught it and it started to burn.

"Please, bring me back. I need to know they're safe!"

_Don't die, don't die… just __**please**__, don't die!_

Out of the note's ashes, a thestral emerged.

It looked at Harry with knowing silver eyes, nudged him sadly and then turned back towards the flames.

For a creature of death, it looked oddly crestfallen, nearly heartbroken and its gaze broke Harry's heart even more than it already was.

Harry tried to grab his husband's hand tighter, but Salazar leaned forward and kissed his cheek instead.

"Stay safe," his husband said. "Stay safe for me, will you?"

There was no talk about Ginny.

There was no talk about Harry marrying somebody else.

And as much as Harry loved Ginny - he knew for a fact that he would never consider marrying her again. It wouldn't be fair to her and she would never be enough…

A single tear ran down Harry's cheek.

Salazar smiled at him and released his hands.

"Go!" he said, stepping back.

Harry smiled a last, sad smile towards his husband and then took two steps forward towards the fire, towards the thestral in the flames.

Then he stopped, his breath suddenly faster.

"I can't," he said.

"Go!" Salazar repeated. "You can't continue living with those fears - so go and make it right!"

Again, Harry took another step towards the thestral, just to stop a second time, this time turning back towards his husband.

His hand reached for the other man automatically.

"Come with me," he pleaded. "Please! I can't… I simply _**can't **_imagine living without you - so, _please_, don't make me!"

_Don't make me lose you!_

_Not even knowing they are safe is enough if I lose you instead._

_No matter if this Litha ritual breaks and leaves me forever stranded in the past; no matter if I die because of this - I just can't, absolutely cannot live without you!_

There was understanding in his husband's eyes.

Understanding and absolute grief, because one of them would always lose.

_Friends._

_Family._

_**A home.**_

_But did it matter if they had the other?_

_Did it matter considering their souls were shared with each other - considering their magic was one, just based in two bodies?_

In the end, there was just one answer for those questions - one answer for the hand reaching for a beloved.

For a moment the Slytherin Founder turned back towards the school to look at it, then, with a mental plea for forgiveness, he reached out and took his husband's waiting hand.

Together, they jumped over the fire and after the thestral.

The fire touched their bodies, burned them until they were burning brighter than any fire ever before.

Years melted of their faces, and their steps were sure while they followed death's creature through ashes, flames and time.

Litha's bonfire burned brightly and everlasting in the night, weaving its magic of renewal.

The sun wheel was spinning and spinning and spinning.

Rotary torches illuminated midsummer nights.

Thousands of midsummer nights were lightened by fires.

And on the other side of time, the wheel stopped still.

A pair of partners emerged from the ashes of a burned down flame, their hands entwined and their faces younger than in decades.

_You're back, now make sure they don't die, won't die in what is to come._

A man more snake than man emerged from a cauldron.

A young boy with green eyes locked gaze with another pair of green eyes before he faded.

And a thestral with silver eyes watched when two boys - one with green eyes, another one with the same eyes as the thestral took the world in storm.

_I brought you back, child, and they're still safe. _

_**Keep it that way.**_

xXx

xXxXxXxXxXxHarryxXxXxXxSalazarxXxXxXxXxSalazarxXxXxXxXxHarryxXxXxXxXxXxXx

_Well, I guess I'm back to my most preferred playground with that – Time Travel… xDD_

_I hope you liked it!_

_Ebenbild_


End file.
